A Helmet's Best Friend
by CheekyBrunette
Summary: Logan's jealous that a helmet could mean more to Carlos than he could, and it doesn't help that Carlos doesn't seem to notice. **for Sum1cooler and nic98ole**


**"I am so in love with Carlos, I'm scared my insides are going to fall out, then I'd slip on them and crack my head on the floor and still be grinning like an idiot". The things that come up...**

**So THIS is a little thing that popped into my head for Sum1cooler and nicole98 because they're doing them, and I got in on the action too, so why not? Plus, I'm waiting to get a better grip on just jay.'s one shot (She posted Juicy, so I owe her so BAD!), AND this REALLY needed to happen.**

**Where whatever sort of googles you want with this one, guys. No lie...**

Carlos sat at the pool, helmet planted on his head and a smile plastered on his face. His feet dangled in the water as he sucked on a smoothie, hand instinctively resting on the hunk of plastic covering his head. Logan trying to steal it the other day had made him extremely protective of it, which just made the genius want to take it even more.

It wasn't fair. Carlos's helmet got _everything_. Sure, yeah, he didn't like how the helmet always got first dibs all the time, taking his turn not only while playing cards but also in line for ice cream and various other things. That wasn't the biggest problem. What Logan was really mad about, was that an inanimate object earned more of Carlos's attention than he did.

Logan was _living_. Logan was _breathing_. Logan was a _person_. After over ten years of being ignored and excluded in favor of a _helmet_, Logan wasn't ashamed to say he was a bit more than jealous of it. In fact, he loathed it. It ate at him everytime Carlos wore the stupid thing. There was always a feeling of relief when the blasted thing protected him from a flying rock or face plant on the concrete, but it was normally quickly replaced by anger when the Latino reached up to give it a grateful pat.

Okay, lets count, shall we? How many times had _Logan_ been the one to save Carlos from a nasty fall, break, or near concussion? The helmet might protect the boy's head, but Logan was the one who took care of the rest of him. He must have a least bandaged up a million cuts for the crazy hockey player, but he didn't get near as much thanks as that stupid helmet did. How come it was _expected _of him to save Carlos, but with the stupid helmet, designed for protection, it was a miracle?

He was tired of being left out, kicked out, and blocked out for something that didn't even do a better job than he did. Carlos couldn't even say that the helmet was there for him more. The guys were always together, it's not like Carlos ever got the chance to be alone with it. It was frustrating, and Logan was _done._

_"_Logie!" Carlos yelped, breaking him out of his negative thoughts. Logan looked over to see Carlos standing over him with one hand clutching his foot and the other _still_ holding his helmet. Logan could have punched him.

"What?" he spat, squinting up into the sun to get a look at him. The Latino had a grimace plastered on his face, and he held up the hand that had been around his foot, blood dying it red. Carlos winced at the sight of it, trying to get a better look at the bottom of it, wondering how bad the damage was. His one hand never left his helmet.

"I think I cut my foot," he said, though it was pretty obvious, "I might have stepped on some glass or a rock or something." He looked to Logan expectantly, but the pale boy just offered him a blank expression. After a couple minutes, Carlos realized that Logan wasn't leaping out of his seat to help him, and he plopped down on the end of his lounge chair. "Well?" he asked, trying to goad him on. The genius just raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he spat. Frankly, Logan couldn't care _less_ about Carlos's foot right now. For all he cared, it could get horribly infected, he'd have to get it amputated, quit the band, and then move back to Minnesota where he wouldn't have to look at him. Logan didn't care if it was drastic, he was hurt, and it wasn't ignorable anymore. Even when Logan told him he didn't like the helmet, he still kept it. Still. They may had made a compromise in the end, but that didn't keep Carlos from fighting him every step of the way. Maybe he was just harboring bad feelings still from just that, but until now, he hadn't really noticed until how bothered he was by it.

"Aren't you going to help me?" he asked, a small smile creeping up on Carlos's lips until he noticed the anger burning in Logan's eyes. He absentmindedly leaned away, eyebrows furrowing together. "What did I do?" he questioned, but Logan just scoffed.

"You and your _helmet_ didn't do anything," he said bitterly, and got up, walking away fast so Carlos couldn't hobble after him. Glancing back as he turned through the door, he spotted Carlos still holding onto his helmet, and holding his foot up to show Camille. Logan couldn't describe the way he was feeling as he pounded on the elevator button, but whatever it was, it had him sliding down the wall to the floor as soon as its doors slid closed behind him.

He rested his face in his hands and looked up when he heard the elevator ding, wanting to die as Kendall stared at him with wide eyes as he got ready to board. "Okay, guess I'm not going to meet James," he said, and Logan shook his head. Of course, Kendall wasn't going to hear it, and grabbed his wrist, pulling him up from the ground and away to 2J. Kendall grabbed a chair from the kitchen table and sat him down very roughly on the couch, swinging the chair around to sit and face him. "What happened." Logan crossed his arms.

"Nothing," he answered in a murmur, and Kendall pulled out his phone, texting someone. When he was done he held it up for Logan to see.

"See? I just canceled James's and my plans. We were going to steal Bitters' scooter for a joy ride. If I'm passing that up, you're going to tell me what's going on," he bargined, and Logan bit his lip, wavering. "Logan," he said seriously, getting him to meet his eyes, "the thing has GPS. I could be missing out on a trip to _Canada_ for all I know. This little talk has to be worth missing out on ham-bacon and maple syrup!" Logan still looked uncertain, much to Kendall's dismay, but he caved eventually.

"Carlos-" he started, but Kendall cut him off before he could say anything.

"Oh, man, what'd he ruin? Did he hurt you? Did he break something? Did he get another one of your books wet? Aww, dude, he totally dropped another one of your cell phones in the pool, didn't he? Okay, no worries, we'll get you another one, and-"

"No, Kendall," Logan sighed, interrupting him. Kendall was sort of used to them by now, and had a habit of jumping to conclusions out of experience. This was one of the few instantces where he was actually wrong, normally pegging the problem straight away and fixing it before anyone really had the chance to be mad. "I'm just... frustrated with him." Kendall arched an eyebrow.

"What happened?" he asked, knowing from Logan's serious, worn out tone that it was time to buckle down. He sounded exhausted in an emotionally strung out sort of way. Logan hesitated, debating on whether to tell or not. This one was sort of personal, but also pretty childish. He felt like he should get over it, but at the same time, he was tired of being less than nothing but an overrated hard hat. I mean, really? A helmet? He hadn't even had it all that long in comparison to the lenght the two had been friends. He burst.

"It's his stupid helmet!" Logan blurted, words falling out faster than his brain could process them. "He loves it so much and talks about it like it's so great, when I do just as much for him as that stupid thing does. I mean, he eats breakfast next to it instead of me, and I _make_ his breakfast! I fix up all his cuts and stuff all the time, but he doesn't even say anything, meanwhile every time his helmet saves him from a falling... whatever, he's rubbing it and thanking it all over the place. It's not fair, it's not right, and it's _my _turn! I'm done with Carlos until he gives me the stinking time of day!" he yelped, and Kendall's thick eyebrows rose in shock. He'd not been expecting that.

"Why don't you tell him?" he asked, not sure how else to respond. Logan was always hard for him to make happy. He had a habit of penting things up and letting them all blow in one goal, making what could have been an easy fix really, really complicated. Logan huffed, crossing his arms, annoyed.

"Cause he doesn't care. I stormed off, and all he did was hold onto his helmet and have someone else look at his foot," he answered, Kendall blowing off the random foot bit in there. Sometimes he didn't want to know. Logan fell quiet. "It's like I don't even matter, and a helmet is his world", he whispered, tears brimming in his eyes.

Kendall rubbed his knee comfortingly, when James burst through the door with a limping Carlos. He looked at the on the near crying Logan and the hopelessly confused Kendall and asked, "Does this have anything to do with me finding him bleeding out in the pool?" Kendall's eyebrows flew up.

"You left him bleeding?" he asked Logan, shocked.

"You went in the pool?" Logan asked Carlos, incredulous. The Latino merely nodded like it was no big deal. He was dripping wet, his foot leaking pink water onto the floor. Logan just shook his head, angrily. "Well, way to help it clot, Einstein," he muttered. Kendall noticed the crooked look Carlos was giving him, one hand on his helmet and the other holding his towel around him. Kendall could see why Logan was so jealous of it. Here the kid was, angsty and upset, and Carlos was still practically oblivious to him and loving on his helmet. It was rough.

Kendall came over and wrapped an arm around Carlos, leading him to the bathroom and first aid kit. "Let's get you patched up, buddy," he said, taking him away, but James grabbed his arm, his expression questioning.

"Shouldn't Logan do that?" he asked, knowing his friend's reputation as the future doctor of the Palm Woods. After all, really, why wouldn't Logan be the one to patch up a bleeding foot? Kendall shrugged him off.

"It's fine, James," he answered, and tried to go again, but was once again stopped. James was completely lost, and gave him a look that read 'help me' clear as day. Kendall just shook him off and repeated, "It's _fine_, James." He walked Carlos off to the bathroom, not missing it as James took his chair in front of Logan, undoubtedly asking what had happened as the smaller teen looked to the floor, humiliated but still spilling.

Kendall sighed, sitting Carlos down on the closed toilet seat and shutting the door. The younger boy watched as he cleaned the cut and dressed it, wrapping the relatively large scrape up in gauze. He bit his lip, "Ow!" he yelped, Kendall not even trying to be gentle with him. He wasn't particuarly _mad_ at Carlos, just... flustered. He groaned.

"He's mad at you, you know!" he informed him, his foot still only half done. Carlos looked at him questioningly, confusion evident in his features. He was busy fiddling with his helmet straps.

"Who?" he asked, and Kendall nearly started hitting his head over and over on the sink counter. Like, really? How could anyone be so dumb? If he had thought about it, Kendall hadn't noticed Logan's apparently eternal jealousy for the stupid thing either, but at least he could tell when he was mad. And Logan definitely was _mad_. He just wasn't much of a yeller. More like he just got bitter and scowly.

"Logan, duh!" he answered, not really caring if the way he phrased it insulted the poor Latino. Again, he wasn't mad, just... upset that one of his friends was hurting, and the other couldn't seem to bother enough to care. Kendall was protective. He didn't want to be mean to Carlos, but he wasn't going to let him treat Logan badly in favor of a helmet either. "You're hurting his feelings, and he doesn't even think you'd care!" Carlos's eyebrows knit together.

"He doesn't think I care?" he clarified, and Kendall nodded.

"Do you?" he asked, and Carlos looked at him with wide eyes, shaking his head yes. Kendall visibly relaxed, and finished wrapping him up, his foot officially mummified. "Do you know how?" he asked, and Carlos now shook his head no. Kendall sighed, his shoulders slumping as he took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. "It's your helmet." At that, the Latino immediately threw his hands up to protect it.

"Does he want to take it?" he asked, fear filling his eyes. He loved his helmet, he'd thought this was over. Carlos couldn't imagine losing it. Kendall bit his lip, answering him delicately.

"I don't think he wants to take it," he said slowly, "it just makes him sad when you wear it." Kendall always tried to speak very simply about emotions when it came to Carlos. It wasn't to patronize him, but to honestly help him understand. As it had already been proven, that the kid was pretty out of it when it came to feelings. "I think he thinks you love your helmet more than you love him, and that makes him feel bad." Carlos 'oh'ed in understanding.

"Kendall... why does he think that?" he asked, and the blonde's hopeful expression fell, his chance at Carlos getting it the easy way completely vanishing. He flicked one of his straps as examples came to his mind.

"Well, you do give his seat to it at dinner, lunch, and breakfast, you let it go before him in line, and you give him his turn in every game we've ever played," he started off, wincing as he explained it, "but I think what's really getting him is that you praise it all the time for protecting you and keeping you safe, when Logan's the one who patches you up for all the times it can't. I think he's tired of you not thanking him for saving you, when you love your helmet for doing the same thing. Wouldn't you get tired of believing your best friend is closer with a helmet than with you?" Carlos looked to his toes, ashamed. He felt horrible that he would be doing such a thing to Logan and not even noticing it.

"Thanks, Kendall," he said gratefully, wincing when he realized he couldn't remember a prominent time when he said "Thanks, Logan". He smiled at him a bunch, but he didn't really say it. This was bad. He shuffled out of the bathroom, watching as James got up as he walked over to Logan. The tall boy was at this point caught up, and figured the two could do with some alone time. Carlos plopped down on the couch right next to Logan, their legs brushing.

"What do you want?" Logan asked, hurt wrapped in his voice. Carlos didn't know what to say, so instead, he took his helmet off and crammed it onto Logan's head, buckling it beneath his chin. Carlos giving his helmet to someone else... this meant something. Logan looked up at him, eyes expectant, and Carlos offered him a shaky smile.

"Logie, thank you so much for taking care of me, I'd probably be dead on the side walk if it wasn't for you," he said, going straight into it and earning a soft gasp, "I love you, Kendall, and James more than anything, even my helmet, and I only love that so much cause you bought it for me." Logan was lost.

"Wha-?" he mouthed, and Carlos laughed.

"Don't you remember? You said you were scared I was going to get really hurt because I kept hitting my head, and my old one was beat up from hockey. You got me a new one and made me promise to never take it off, so... I didn't." Logan was blown away. How could he forget that he was the one to buy the evil thing? His mind slowly started to churn what he had just been told, and without any warning, he jumped onto Carlos, wrapping him in a massive hug.

"No more letting it take my seat," he mumbled into his friend's collar, and Carlos nodded, running a hand through his exposed hair. It felt weird to not be wearing his helmet, but he could tell it made Logan happy that he was wearing it.

Logan was worth more than a hunk of plastic.

**Normally I make Carlos really in tune to people's emotions, so I don't know what happened here. I also feel like I overused the word "eyebrows".**

**This kept being deleted, and it was really frustrating. Also, I woke up at six to finish this, so please don't be mad if it's weird toward the end.**


End file.
